


Ghosting Along

by Lexebug



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Confessions, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-25 21:26:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12044595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexebug/pseuds/Lexebug
Summary: It started out so simple.What happened?***This isn't gonna have a happy end, and is mostly a vent fic****Title if from the song Ghosting by Mother Mother*





	1. Chapter 1

It started out as something small. Barely anything, really. 

Keith flopped into one of the couches in the castle, a water pouch in one hand, using the other to push back his hair. Hunk and Lance were sitting on the opposite couch, Lance chattering animatedly with hands flying every direction, Hunk nodding knowingly. Lance paused as Hunk grabbed one hand in his own, spreading out the fingers.

"Dude, your hands are so small, but you have long fingers. Piano fingers." Lance laughed, light and happy.

"Piano fingers? What does that even mean?" He asked, not moving his hand. Keith was silent as Hunk placed his palm against Lance's, almost wonderingly.

"Your fingers are long. Perfect for piano, to reach all the different keys and stuff." Hunk's hand was bigger than Lance's, squared-off fingertips. Worker's hands. Strong hands. Lance did have long fingers; he could have played any instrument he wanted. Graceful hands. 

Keith felt like something inside of him was snapping as he watched Lance lace his delicate, graceful fingers through Hunk's, grinning. Hunk smiled back, sheepish, blushing. He looked away, but in his peripheral vision, he saw Lance scoot closer to Hunk, linking their ankles together. Their hands stayed twined. 

He stood up, stomping out of the room. They hadn't even noticed him. He could do with some down time, anyway. 

Alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Keith reclined in his chair, tipping the front feet off the ground, and continued eating, bowl and spoon in hand. Unseen, unusually quiet, Lance crept up behind him, and Keith jumped when his chair was pushed onto the ground. "Four on the floor, Kogane," Lance said, his voice sharp, a shadow of a laugh hiding in it. Keith smiled, small, soft. Just for a second. Just for Lance. 

"You do this all the time, Lance. Why's it different for me?" Keith asked, and Lance flicked the back of his head.

"Because I have the balance of a prima ballerina, and you have the balance of a concussed hippo." Keith snorted, tipping his chair back and reaching up to poke Lance's face.

"I'm a rebel. It's what I do." He paused, waiting for Lance's reply. Probably would be brash and witty and clever, like always. Like Lance. But Lance wasn't focused on Keith anymore; Hunk had just walked in, and Lance's eyes had lit up like fairy lights. Like it was Christmas morning, and Hunk's arms were full of presents.

In reality, Hunk's arms were full of wires and unknown machinery; he dumped them on the table, smiling at Keith, who nodded at him. Lance leaned over Keith, like he wasn't there. "Lance, do you have any idea what to do here? I wanted to wire some new upgrades for Yellow, like a radio and stuff, and I'm not sure what I'm doing." Hunk was lying. He was an engineer, for Christ's sakes. 

"Why didn't you ask Pidge? Aren't you two the techy ones around here? Lance isn't exactly an engineer," Keith pointed out, gesturing with his spoon. Because of course he wasn't, he was a pilot. What else would he be? But Lance bristled, and Hunk looked away. 

"Well, Pidge is always busy with her own stuff, so I thought Lance could help me this time." Keith shoved his chair out from the table, placing his half-eaten lunch in the sink. 

"Have fun with your technology, guys." Hunk said a quiet goodbye; Lance didn't even look up from the pair of wires he was fidgeting with. He was still simmering with hostility, obviously pissed at Keith. What did it matter?

Not like Keith cared, right?


	3. Chapter 3

Keith dodged the bullets from the gladiators; they were practically sluggish, compared to his current form. He was in top condition, and this was an easy training exercise. He was responsible for defending his team mates, just like the exercise they did when they first got to the castle. Shiro was guiding them through the coms, telling them moves. Pidge was shouting, just sort of in general. Lance and Hunk were back to back, circling as the gladiators fired from all sides. "Fan out, guys, the next wave is gonna be more high-level," came Shiro's voice, and the paladins formed a circle, braced for the next wave. 

Keith ended up next to Lance, and looked out of the corner of his eye at his teammate. He was panting, face flushed with exertion, eyes wild with adrenaline. Keith grinned, for real, for Lance, and then the next wave arrived. There were significantly more bots this time, and Keith passed behind Lance, his sword out. He was finally close to Lance, even if it was just a mandatory exercise, just protecting him and being shielded. He was shocked out of his thoughts as a bullet struck him in the chest, and his armor beeped. He looked up in time to see that Lance had made his way over to Hunk, who had been under fire too. But Keith and Lance had been protecting each other. Hadn't that been an unspoken agreement? These were the thoughts that whirled through his head the split second before he was dumped through the floor and onto the couches. Tears dripped down his face, and he let them, because there was nobody around to see them.

He was alone again.


	4. Chapter 4

Keith padded softly out of his room, tying his hair in a quick ponytail before continuing his walk to the training room. The familiar stress-induced insomnia from when he was back home had returned, full force. Keith hadn't slept more than three hours a night in two weeks, or however time was measured out here. Some part of him, the part that still wanted to dream, wondered if maybe someday he'd have someone to share a bed with, to help him sleep, to keep the nightmares at bay. But every night, he'd wake up lonely.

He stopped outside of the room with the couches, not sure what he was hearing. Someone gasped, and he realized it was Lance. He stopped breathing, didn't want to be heard. Lance's voice continued, in a whisper: "Did you hear something?" It was followed by-holy shit, was that a MOAN? Hunk's voice filtered through Keith's terror, reassuring Lance they were alone. Lance laughed, and it sounded all wrong. Lance shouldn't be laughing at something Hunk had said. He should be laughing at something Keith had said. Lance gasped again, quieter this time, and obviously enjoying himself. Keith stormed away as quietly and angrily as possible. He felt sick.


	5. Chapter 5

"Keith, hold on for a second." Shiro stepped in front of Keith, blocking his exit from the kitchen. "Can we talk?' Keith shrugged angrily, intent on leaving the room. Hunk and Lance were holding hands 'secretly' and it made him feel like the room was spinning. Shiro put a gentle hand on Keith's shoulder, and Keith followed him out to the couches. 

"What?" Keith didn't meet Shiro's eyes. He knew it would give him away.

"Did something happen recently?" Keith risked a glance up, and it was a mistake. Shiro's face was so concerned, so genuinely worried for Keith. It was disgusting. Keith didn't deserve that. Someone kinder than him deserved Shiro's attention. Not a broken boy who doesn't know what his heart wants, or one who knows all too well and can't do anything about it.

"No." God, he was going monosyllabic. Shiro knew him too well; he saw right through Keith. 

"Something with you and Lance, maybe?" Keith bristled, flinching away from Shiro, even though they were already a safe distance apart. 

"No." Lies. Keith knew, Shiro knew. It was painfully obvious to both parties, and Keith hated it.

"You leave the room every time he comes in. What's up with you two? Did Lance do something to you?" Shiro's voice grew colder, and Keith felt some strange jolt of satisfaction that someone cared about him. Obviously enough to do something undesirable to anyone who hurt him. 

"No, it's... it's nothing. And I don't leave the room when he comes in, not all the time." Shiro's fingers played across Keith's shoulder, gentle, easing Keith back towards him.

"You know you can talk to me, right? About anything?" Keith nodded, but it was hesitant. And some part of him knew it was true, but still. He could barely even admit to himself these things; he sure as hell couldn't tell anyone else. "Alright. I can tell you want to be alone right now. Come find me if you need company, okay?" Shiro patted Keith on the head, then stepped out, leaving Keith alone. To relax or suffer with his own thoughts; that was yet to be revealed.

Keith tried to gather his thoughts, for real this time. He tried to categorize them, but images kept floating through. Memories, really. Lance's smile. Lance's hair. Lance stepping out of the showers, a towel around his waist, laughing at something he must have remembered. The way his chest rose and fell, the water dripping down his shoulders. How he caught Keith's eye and grinned, ten million watt smile. Lance's fingers, delicate and gentle and flitting through the air as he gestured wildly, like butterflies, like sparrows, like leaves caught in the wind. His fingers intertwined with sturdy, darker ones. His smile at someone else. 

Keith groaned into his hands. He didn't know what he did in a past life, but it must have been pretty bad, because this seemed like his purgatory.


End file.
